Deal With The Devil
by AriesDanger24
Summary: AU Bobby accidentally summons the devil while filing through his friend's old house. Crowley is summoned and is intrigued by the human's stubborn nature to make a wish so he sticks around. Until Bobby's foster kids (Sam and Dean) get into an accident and then he literally has to make a deal with the devil, but it's a sweet deal. (Bobby x Crowley) and possibly more pairings.
1. The Summoning

**_Deal With The Devil_**

 **Aryes: Hey guys, Hope you like my new series start! Tell me if it's any good to continue! I love Crowley x Bobby so much! So sassy~! I tried my best to bring out their roles so I hope this series is a good rough draft. Any ideas of other pairings or just ideas are greatly valued! Thank you~**

 **You know you're writing a lot when Bobby accidentally becomes Booby XD**

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"Bobby, you don't have to do this. I know it's hard for you to do, but it's got to be done. So man up and get this over with!" Rufus declared as he opened the door to Ellen's apartment and Bobby frowned deeper at him as the door slammed against the wall. Rufus never had any tact for the dead and Bobby would bet that when he died Rufus would say the same thing to his sons as they cleaned out his house. ' _That's comforting...not.'_ The bearded man made a mental note to exclude Rufus from cleaning his house if it ever came to that, because the crazy idiot would keep everything for himself and leave none for his sons. Well, that was if the crazy son of a bitch didn't get himself killed first.

Ellen had been a friend to the family who had died in a fire with her one and only daughter Jo, a beautiful girl who had been just like her mother, strong, confident, but stubborn as hell. Now here they both were, sitting on the floor of her garage cleaning out things that were probably here before the stone age judging by the insanely liberal amount of dust on everything. Rufus started on the left and Bobby was on the right, each of them making 3 piles: personal, storage, and throw. Personal basically meant Bobby wanted it, but as he glanced over at Rufus' progress he could only shake his head and mutter an apology to Ellen, because Rufus had so much in his Keep pile and Bobby knew for a fact it was not going to a good home.

"Rufus," The hatted man said with a high pitched patronized tone, "This ain't no garage sale, this is Ellen's, stop grabbing everything that shines and puttin' it in your Keep pile!" The black haired male turned and said, "What! She ain't got no use for it anymore, she's dead. Hell, Ellen would be happy I am using it instead of throwing everything in storage like its all antique art!" Bobby grabbed the bridge of his nose, pinching it in utter frustration, but there was a bit of fatigue lining it so he let the comment go. The next hour was quiet as Bobby found a few photo albums and flip through them with an extreme amount of regret. Regret about the things he never got to say and now he never would be able to. He shut the books away in a box and marked them as "Photos" , pushing them over to the storage pile, which was a decent size by now at least on his side.

Then, Rufus spoke up, "Hey Bobby," it was a casual reminder that he wasn't alone and that he was thankful for that. "I'm hungry so I'll get us a burger at George's, what do you want?" Bobby snorted and looked over at his friend with a very even look that was a cross between "I know you" and a "what are you up to look" as he spoke up, "You won't get me anything even if I ask."

The man shrugged and cast him a glance from the side as a very cheeky smile appeared on his face, "Well, I had to try the whole friend thing, but who was I kidding, I was never cut out for the moping type of friends li-" "Just shut up and get out of here you moron, go and get your damn burger." Bobby waved him away, the last part of the sentence quieter as he looked back to the still large pile of things left on his side of the garage. There was just so much to do with so little amount of mental strength he actually had left, he was so done with people dying all around him. It happened when you got old, but no one ever got used to it and if anyone told they did they'd be lying. It was terrible, it was such a helpless feeling of anxiety and fear, but everyone went through it and it still sucks.

The bearded man dragged himself to finish off the pile, making it his goal to clear this side of the garage before the night's end. To Bobby, that seemed like a pretty high goal as he found himself getting entranced with everything he found near the end of the pile. It looked older than the rest and Bobby guessed it had belonged to a relative of Ellen, most likely it was her mother's or grandmother's. He came across some original copies of some fairy tales, which was rare, but Bobby put them in the storage pile. Then he found a box full of chins dolls in mint condition and Bobby had an internal struggle with them, but eventually put them over in storage, dolls were a woman's childhood and he just didn't mess with them after watching "Chucky".

Then, Bobby came across a few things of interest, there was a box and on it was the word grandpa that was written by an ink quill. The box looked as though it had come from the future in a time warp, it was ripped up in some places and faded in other parts. The box was actually a white chest with a lock and everything, the white peeling all around showing a darker undertone of color. Bobby stood up and pulled the box out into the open, then he heard a door slam shut outside, a car door to be exact. "Hey Rufus," Bobby yelled, hoping the other man would hear him the first time, and to the smaller man's luck he did.

"What?" Rufus yelled back and Bobby could hear the man coming in the front door. "Can you go get a hammer or a big ol' pair snippers-" He heard Rufus go, "What? You want to hammer some hookers, Bobby we aren't that young anymore-" Bobby scoffed and cut him off before he could continue, "No you damn idgit! I want either a HAMMER or a BIG PAIR of CLIPPERS!" Bobby emphasized it and Rufus got the picture and replied as he turned, "I'll go look for 'em." "They are in the kitchen, in a big cabinet somewhere near the sink!" Bobby yelled and he heard something like, 'yeah, yeah, yeah' coming from the taller man in the other room.

Listlessly, the hatted man turned back around to the box, his older eyes observing what could be a century old box at least. It had been heavy when he had pulled it, but it was hard to tell what was inside from just weight alone, but if he had to guess what was inside he'd say more books. Bobby looked at his Keep pile, which wasn't even a pile and consisted of a pen actually. It's not that he didn't want anything, it's just that in his mind this was Ellen's stuff, Ellen's home, and it didn't feel right to take anything. He knew Rufus had been right earlier though, Ellen probably would have yelled Bobby to grow some balls and take a few things, but he couldn't bring himself to do it yet. Even if the stuff belonged to anyone else, Bobby had to really want something for him to take it from dead people.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of Rufus' boots against the hardwood floor as he got closer to the garage. He popped his head through the doorway and said, "Found the hammer, but no luck on the clippers you were wantin'." Bobby shrugged, he didn't care at this point, he just wanted one of the two, either of them would do the job. "Alright, hand it over then, I only needed one of them, well hopefully it will work." Rufus handed him the hammer and Bobby tested it against the lock, just gently tapping three times, then he let loose a huff as he slammed the hammer down. The lock, unable to resist such a power, gave away with a metal bash as it hit the floor thunderously, the sound echoing in the room with an uneasy silence following it.

"Open it up" Rufus said evenly, the sound cutting through the silence like a butter knife and Bobby stared at the box for only a moment longer before he opened the lid. To the brim of the box it was filled with books and papers. Symbols, maps, and letters sticking out of books, but what really caught his eye was the fact that a few of them spoke of Mythology and Paranormal beings, two of his favorite subjects. Bobby felt a nudge at his back and saw Rufus looking down on him with a simple grin and Bobby realized he had been smiling.

"Balls!" Bobby muttered sharply, the grin on Rufus dumb face growing 2 inches wider as he nudges Bobby again. "You know you want the damn things. You and your love of books. Go ahea-" The black haired man said, but Bobby cut him off with a glare and the other man frustratedly looked at him, "Look, Ellen would probably be glad these books are going with you rather than in a storage room where no one can use them." Bobby's glare withered a little as his resolve wavered, '...Ah hell.' Bobby gave up as Rufus shut the lid and pulled it to the brunette's Keep pile, sitting on it so Bobby couldn't change his mind. "Fine, you smug ass bastard. You win, happy?" Bobby half yelled and Rufus said, "No, not until we get done, then I'll be happy."

Bobby had to agree with Rufus, getting done soon would be a blessing. The two men wrestled with the very last of Bobby's side of the garage and then loaded up the junk yard pile first. Rufus making a run and coming back to get the storage pile, which they had to manage getting all the stuff in the damn small storage room. The two then made the last round of cleaning up the house and stuffing their new belongings into the trunk of the truck. They stopped at Rufus' first because he had entirely way too much stuff to get it out alone, Bobby helped him and they got it all down from the truck and place in Rufus' in less than an hour. Then Rufus drove Bobby back to his house with his auto repair shop closed for the day.

Swiftly, they unloaded Bobby's 4 new items: the chest full of books and papers, a single pocket knife that was her husband's, a recipe book that had been in her family, and a picture of Ellen, Jo and her husband before he died. They all looked happy and it was one of the only things the brunette had wanted when going over there, a picture of their family. Bobby had never really been a family person, but the boys had shown him that family could be something fantastic. His sons, Sam and Dean, were in there 20's now, but they had first come to him when they were practically teenagers, Sam around 10 years old and Dean was 16. Their mother had died when the boys were young, but their father died when the boy's were 10 and 16. That was a terrible time to lose your only parent. John Winchester had been a good man who had just been at the wrong place and at the wrong time.

Bobby was the only person the boys knew, and the only person that could take them in, so he did. He had always liked the boys and he had tried to make a life for them, but the way that they were made to come to him he regretted, because no child should have both their parents taken from them like that. It had messed the two up, out of the two of them Dean had taken it the hardest. He became strong, guarded, and became artificial to everyone else except Sam and now Bobby. Sam, on the other hand, dealt with it much better, he cried then he stopped and he worked harder and was smart enough to go to college to be a lawyer, which was where he was now. Dean was out on the road somewhere, taking odd jobs and saying hello when he can, but Bobby is pretty sure he was working with the government.

That's why family pictures meant so much to him now, real family was something you want to carry with you always. A small reminder of what you have and what you could lose if you mess up, and Bobby had it now and he knew what it was like without it. In any case, Bobby never usually screwed up unless it was on purpose. "Dammit Rufus, a little help would be nice ya lazy bum!" Bobby shouted as the dark haired male barely lifted his side of the chest, and they were so close to getting it in the house. It was so late the crickets and fireflies were making an orchestra and the damn idiot won't even get a move on! Bobby wanted some sleep before the rooster crowed!

Eventually, or rather after multiple challenges that Rufus couldn't pick up the trunk and then the ebony haired man taking the item in the house for Bobby to prove his own pride, the chest was settled in a corner of his living room finally. Most things in the mechanic's house were either antiques, books or guns, so the chest fit in better than the older man could have hoped. Rufus sneered at Bobby but it had little effect when he was breathing like a horse who just ran the Kentucky Derby, he would've commented on the fact that Rufus was tired to mess with the man, but despite this mishap, Rufus had been a good friend today so he let it slide. He sat down then watched as the other man approached his fridge and Bobby smiled a little as he said with closed eyes leaning back in his chair, "Top shelf, left side."He heard a chuckle from his old friend as he heard the man say, "I would've have found the stuff without your directions."

After a few moments, Rufus returned with a six pack of cheap beer from Bobby's fridge, but the brunette mechanic already knew that before the other man went into his kitchen, because it seemed whenever the ebony haired man was in his house he needed to get buzzed. "Don't drink more than 2 Rufus, I don't want to have a sleepover and pillow fights in our pajamas. I'd be late working on my cars the next day." He heard the the taller man sneer at him as he sat down near him and Rufus responded, "Oh yeah, you'd like a pillow fight wouldn't you?" There was another part to the sentence that Bobby caught on to when the taller man mumbled after, "I'd win either way." It came from Rufus and echoed a bit in the silence. Bobby's tan hand shooting out to grab the pillow next to his hip but he was too late as he was smacked over the head with a pillow.

The mechanic's hand still managed to grab the pillow and hit the cop square in the front of the chest. Both men's eyes glaring at each other with their eyes ablaze at the thought of winning, and the motion had been set along with the conviction to win. Bobby busted his pillow against Rufus' side while the dark skinned male aimed his larger pillow at the mechanic's head. There was a satisfying sound that came from Bobby's hat when it fell to the ground that elicited a laugh from Rufus, a wheezy one at that, and then Bobby stopped and gave the signal to stop, but Rufus wouldn't have it as he aimed at the smaller man again.

"Wait a minute you moron! If we keep fighting like this we-" Bobby tried to explain, but Rufus was never really the listening type as he shouted, "All's fair in love and war Bobby!" He swung it hard into Bobby's back but the brunette deflected it with his own pillow as he tried to talk again. "The beer ain't gonna make it if you keep swinging that thing around like Zeus and his lightning bolt you idjit!" This made the taller man quit right as he was going in for a head shot, because if there was one thing to stop Rufus from fighting it was for fear of tipping over a can of perfectly good beer.

That was when the ebony haired police man put down his pillow and the mechanic put his down too. What were they doing? Acting like stupid children, that's what they were doing. Rufus stood up after a while, maybe an hour or so, and was obviously about to leave as the taller man went to the coat rack to slip on his dirty old coat. "Drive safely." Bobby commented and Rufus let out a laugh as he spoke, "Bobby, take care of yourself first then worry about me." Bobby's eyes slide away from Rufus as he spoke softly, "I worry for you more than myself sometimes you moron, now get going before I boot you out myself!" The ebony haired man grabbed his hat and placed it on his head, giving the mechanic one more pointed look before saying, "At least get yourself something to eat!" Then, Rufus left out the door into the unforgiving night, leaving the brunette to sit and stew over today's events.

Bobby let out a sigh as Rufus left the house and all of today's events poured over him today, and Bobby felt flashbacks of his life and he pinched his nose with a breathy sigh leaving his lips. He put his head in his hands and just thought, thinking had been a way of coping for him. When Karen his wife died, for days he just sat and thought in the room they had shared, trying to just find peace, but he was unable to, so he tried something else. It was easy to erase memories, even if they were only a little solace to the fact that they were gone, it was what he needed. The memories were there if he ever needed them, but they brought so much pain for him now. Bobby got attached too easily to people, but he had learned that humans were fragile things, that future death was like a boss waiting for you to trip up just once so that they could drag your reputation down and get you fired. Death was all around the brunette and his family, and what was worse was that the people who died were all good people.

Bobby breathed out an uneasy sigh again and stood up, walking into the kitchen making himself something to eat. He would something simple, because right now he couldn't handle mentally making something more than that, he was exhausted. He made a pasta of some kind, actually Bobby wasn't even sure about what type he was making, it was probably angel hair noodles. He also couldn't decide whether he should just add Alfredo sauce or spaghetti sauce, he really didn't care either way. Eating wasn't very high on his priority list right now, but it was necessary for living so he decided that he wanted spaghetti instead.

After he got himself a bowl for himself, he sat down on the couch where he had sat earlier and gingerly he touched his beer which was still a bit cold luckily for him. Beer and spaghetti, he really had stooped low, he was only glad his wife couldn't see him now. Karen would have smacked his hand and went to make a meatloaf along with mashed potatoes with a garnish of some kind, because she was fancy like that. She was also beautiful and wonderful, and no matter how many times Bobby had tried to explain it to her, she would never let him have Italian. She always saw it as the devil's food, and she said Americans should have the comfort food that they created. She had been a beautiful woman, but man was she as stubborn on food as a critic and a restaurant they hate, but he loved her anyway.

He finished the red spaghetti quickly, not caring how terrible it tasted and the fact that he was capable of making something that gross, or that cold. The brunette stood up again, taking his now empty beer can with him and he threw it away at the trash can, confident that the can made it into the trash with one shot. The plate and fork were put in his sink and he quickly rinsed them under hot water with ease. His mind, despite being still preoccupied with erasing the fact that he had just lost one of his best friends and her daughter, was still reeling in every sense of the word to the point that he wanted to curl himself up into a ball. His eyes however followed the chest in the corner, the item full of wonder practically wanted him to take his mind off the terrible thoughts rolling in his mind like thunder. Something about this didn't sit right with him, the fact that it was practically begging him to distract himself with the wonders of books and the way it had appeared in Bobby's mind as the first of many distractions.

The mechanic felt himself walk towards the white chest with an undeniable attraction towards the thought of distracting himself, but he had to go to sleep and work tomorrow, but...maybe he would just sort through the box. That wouldn't keep him up too late and it would satisfy his curiosity so that he could sleep, and it would also make it easier to merge with his already large collection of books. Bobby got on his haunches and pulled open the chest lid, peering into the piles of books and papers for a place to start. The mechanic reached for the books on top and instantly made four piles mentally that he could sort them in based on what he had seen earlier: Norse Mythology, Ideology, foreign Languages, and Papers. Bobby looked at each book face with surprise at how ancient they were, and when he stumbled upon one with the date in it, his eyes widened almost comically as he read the date, it was the year 1803.

Then, with more interest now, Bobby put the books in piles and realized he had added two new piles in his mental sorting system. A Monstrumology (he had made it up in his head and it was basically the science of monsters) and Occult readings, and soon Bobby realized that some of the books weren't just faded because they were old but rather because they were read so often in their time. The corners of the pages were ripped and slightly torn at the edges as though the person had been in a rush, or the corners had just dog tagged the damn things too many times. The brunette stacked some books together and moved them to the front of his own large book case, because he could always properly put them up later. 'After I read them,' Bobby thought with a bit of eagerness, cursing himself as he glanced at the clock. It was now well into the night and he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep yet.

The mechanic was about to turn in for the night, but he paused as he saw the papers he had put in the Paper pile on the floor. There wasn't that many of them, but it wasn't something you can just leave around because the smallest step on them could make them tear. Bobby picked them up into his hands and tried to shuffle them into a straight stack. The mechanic looked for a place to put them, even just for the night so he could deal with them in the morning, but he couldn't find one. He looked down at the amassment of papers he held in his arms, they were varying in shapes and sizes, some older, some newer, but all of them were still about the same age. The writing on some notebook pages were in ink, written with a quill and a swift hand others written in pen ink, but it truly told Bobby just how old they were, most were probably older than the civil war.

There were also symbols and Latin writings out the wazoo and that's what attracted Bobby to one particular paper in general. It was a large one, almost like a poster, but the paper was more like parchment paper, scraggly to touch. There was a large black symbol on it similar to a star in a circle, but more intricate and curvy. It was a symbol Bobby recognized, but it was still unfamiliar to him so he read the title of the paper. Yes, Bobby could read Latin, a bit broken but he could speak it better. The title was easy to translate especially with the words Bobby looked up in his college readings.

Translated from Latin the title was, "Demonic Summoning", well that was if Bobby's Latin was correct, but he was a bit rusty. He went on to read the rest of the passage on the side of the circle star figure in the center, it said, "_ will summon demon, speak text of old to summon it. They are required to trade wish for life." To Bobby it was broken Latin mixed with the fact that he didn't know one of the words in the beginning that made him a little angry at himself and made him think back to his tomfoolery in college, he should have listened more.

It was interesting, even if he didn't know what the ingredient was to summon a demon, he still loved to learn about it. Occult things were just mystique and intriguing, even if he didn't get involved in them, they were just stereotypically defying and Bobby had always felt a strange pull to the paranormal forces of the world. Did he believe in ghosts? Yeah, how could he not when he saw his own mother's ghost when he was 13 for a whole year, so to not believe would almost be like denying his own mother, but he might have been hallucinating from loss. The thought that he was hallucinating at that time frame of his life just didn't leave a good taste in his mouth, plus he liked to believe he really did see his mother smiling at him whenever he got a good grade.

Bobby's mindless thoughts caused him to pick at the skin around his fingers, with a strange urge to bite his nails as well. This wasn't an unusual thing for Bobby to do, it was a bad habit he had yet to get rid of. Thinking about the past or anything really made him habitually pick at the skin, as though his body wanted to be distracted as much as his mind was. It was strange because sometimes he never knew he was doing half the time, but it never really bothered him since his hands were so calloused. Heck! Half the time he didn't know he was bleeding from where he had picked because his skin was so dense and thick from working with wrenches and rust. Like now, he hadn't noticed at all how his own finger was welling up with blood as he sat in front of the incantation circle, or how his blood had actually spilled on it as he spoke the Latin incantation out loud to test the words on his tongue.

 ** _"Invocaverit te conjuro te velle meo sanguine hoc contractu.*"_**

 *** I summon thee with my blood and call upon thee for a wish, this is the contract.**

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 **Aryes: Hoped it was okay, I'd love to know whether you like this small series start! :) I have a plan for Crowley x Bobby~! Hope you guys follow the story and comment~! :) Thank you~**


	2. The Deal

**Aryes: Hello, been awhile guys, very busy with other fanfics and life! :) Woot! I got it done, it's a little longer than the last chapter, but i hope you enjoy their first interaction~!**

 **Warning: Includes Yaoi (Male x Male stuff), also twisted childhood, alcohol, and general sassyness (whiCh I hope is done correctly)of Crowley!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or characters, I just love the idea of Crobby!**

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Chapter 2: The Deal

A single scream erupted from the dark depths of hell, it was an unearthly scream almost like a yelling shout and it sent shivers through all the inmates of hell. The scream came from not a human, but a demon of hell. The sound chilled people to the core, but there was no chill in the air for that demon who was being stabbed, only burning hot pain that would never cease because he/she was already dead. "Now let me ask the question one more time and let me be clearer for your ears that are stuffed full of bull crap. WHERE IS THE DAMN MIRROR AND WHO IS RUNNING AROUND WITH IT?" Crowley shouted, his accent mixing in a dangerous way that could only spell trouble for the traitor he was dealing with, his patience was thin at the moment.

Lucifer, the former king of hell, was locked away and in his stead came Crowley. Crowley was demon that worked his way from the bottom up to get to where he was, and he planned to keep it that way. He had been entirely too stressed with all that had been going on, and losing a mirror that could potentially keep away angels like a magic charm. The Scottish man was so done with the damn ordeal, he had been pushed to the limit. With a quick flick of his wrist he plunged a demon knife into the minion's chest causing a sharp scream of pain to leave the possessed human before completely becoming limp. Crowley gave a small grim smile at the sight and the appeal of finally shutting up the fool for good.

Suddenly, he heard a knock at the large double doors and he let out a small "Come in." In came in a large man in a suit, one of his minions who had been standing guard at the door. "What is it?" asked Crowley with a slight growl at the fact he couldn't just enjoy his recent moment of clear peace. He also wondered vaguely what else had gone wrong while he had been torturing the damned soul. The demon who had been in the body was still alive, but he would have to roam to find a new vessel and the only vessels available were in the dungeon. "Sir, there is a demonic summoning portal that has opened up." The demon said, and Crowley's eyebrows furrowed in irritation as he replied, "So?"

"Sir, this incantation is very old, practically ancient on earth. It was one that hasn't been used in centuries!" This caught the ebony haired man's attention as he looked over the tall suited demon with renewed interest, "Really?" The demon gulped as he continued, "Yes sir." They both looked at each other for a moment and Crowley made a decision he hadn't made in years. "I am taking a vacation boys, tell Alistair to take charge for a while. I also want that mirror found when I return." Crowley said and the demon looked shocked. The Scottish man snapped his fingers and appeared before an older looking portal which was a yellow sandy color. "Hmm…interesting, around 18th century if I had to guess correctly." Crowley hummed appreciatively and he read the Latin writing swirling around the outer edge of the circle.

"I summon thee with my blood and call upon thee for a wish, this is the contract huh? Quite an old ultimatum, but I am sure I can work something out with my new client. It's probably some old woman or a money grubby man," Crowley said with a cringe on his face, those were the worst types to make deals with two because they are stubborn or too prideful. The black haired man experimentally touched the portal to check the pull of it and judge whether it was too old to do its job. The pull of it many dwelled upon two things: How well the spell was said in Latin and whether or not the blood was any good or not. Blood you could never judge and demons didn't really care to research it, but Crowley found it interesting anyway.

His hand disappeared for only a moment but the immense force he felt from the portal was astounding, something that the king of hell hadn't felt before. It unnerved him slightly as he pulled his hand away and saw the portal morph back to a normal looking form, so deceptive to the naked eyes, and the short man smirked as he quickly touched the portal again and pulled back. The force was the same this time as well and Crowley smiled genuinely at the strange prospect of who could be the summoner. He didn't get his hopes up, but he walked into the portal with a positive attitude about his new client as he felt the massive pull of the summoner portal pull him in. There was a silence that followed you in the portal and dissipated when you appeared, and Crowley could say that it was the nicest thing that had happened to him all week as he transported to his new destination.

Bobby Singer sat on his haunches in front of the white chest with a disappointed face as he spoke the Latin words, he knew they were right, but he was trying to remember what they meant. Bobby looked down at the paper and noticed a red smudge on the circle and stared at it with a puzzled look, how in the world did that spot get on the paper? Bobby looked at his fingers and saw that one of them was indeed bleeding and he cursed loudly as he usually did in his house alone, "Bleeding again!" He was fed up with this day so much and now he just bled on a few century old demon summoning circle! Bobby licked the blood off his apparently hurt finger and wiped it on the bottom of his flannel shirt and he examined it with an observant eye. The blood started to well up again as fast as it had been wiped away. This time Bobby held his finger against the cotton fabric hoping it would clot the bleeding faster.

"A paper cut? Nasty little things, aren't they?" A smooth Scottish voice asked with a tone of mockery underlying it, the sudden voice making Bobby turn his head so fast he was partially afraid he would get whiplash. There was a short black haired man standing directly behind him staring over at the man's fingers with amusement. The stranger's eyes flickered for a moment red and suddenly Bobby's mind put together what had happened. He had accidentally summoned a demon from hell because of his stupid habit. "Balls!" Bobby said with a cringe of his face, but there was unmistakable confusion on the demon's face as Bobby looked up at him with reverence and caution.

"Please tell me I didn't get a stupid one again? I dread them the most." the ebony haired man pronounced and Bobby slowly got to his feet and looked evenly at the new presence in the room. The mechanic didn't say a word as he studied the new man for a moment, because the stranger was not what he expected when he turned to see the demon in his house. The first thing that popped out at the brunette was the very expensive clothing choices the other man had made. The black haired man was wearing a beautiful suit with a red tie, along with black pants and shiny shoes to match. He looked to be around the same age as Bobby, but there was an unmistakable aura of wisdom and age surrounding the man.

"So, you are the demon I summoned," Bobby said guessingly and the man was shameless as he gestured to his whole self and looked back at him, "the one and only." Bobby stood a little taller and watched him for a few moments as the other man smile smugly and remark at him, "I don't have all day to look pretty darling, take a picture, last longer. I want to know why I am here though if you don't mind, I'm a bit busy at the moment." The hatted man adjusted his hat nervously and sighed a moment as he explained what happened, "I didn't mean to summon you, I accidentally bled on the damn paper as I read the Latin on it. There is no wish I have that I'd trade my life over."

The demon threw his hands in his pocket and looked as though he was angry, it was easy to tell actually from the his eyes narrowed at him, the hazel coloring a twinge darker, like brewing coffee. "Really," the man said darkly and Bobby put his hands up in surrender as the man came somewhat towards him and he shut his mouth before he was about to say anything. A long knife was pointed at his neck and keeping him where he was, still and watching the other man. The Scottish man was clearly stressed about things and without meaning to Bobby spoke about his observation, "You're stressed."

There was a moment where the black haired man looked at him like a moron, and then proceeded to emphasize the next sentence like it was obvious, "Yes, I'm stressed!" The man's expression changed then to a calm one again as he strode over to Bobby's couch, pocketing the knife as he did so. The emotional change in the man was instant and professional, this told Bobby that the demon had danced this dance many times before, "But enough about me, let's talk about you." The man made himself comfortable as he plopped down on the couch in a pompous manner and Bobby snorted as he picked up the papers and put them inside the now empty chest and close the lid. His eyes though never left the new guest though and the man on the couch smirked again, smug and rather irritating.

"I'm not going to bite, well, not yet anyway." The gruff brunette's eyes widened and Crowley chuckled at the client's reactions, but he was still irritated and confused. So, the man hadn't meant to summon a demon, and he was not fully aware of what went down in a demon deal. Any other demon would've already killed the hatted man for such naivety, but Crowley's hazel eyes swept around the room once more as he examined the man who had just summoned him. He was not like most people who would've have been stupid about accidentally summoning a demon, he was significantly smarter than most humans, because the man was on edge, he hadn't screamed and he was not getting too close. Crowley's eyes mainly focused on the bookshelf as though it had just proved his point.

There, in the room, was an enormous amount of books in a single bookshelf, that wasn't even counting the ones surrounding it and spread across the room. The subject varied from book to book, but the short man felt a certain pull to the books. Ancient languages and mythology were primarily the ones that caught Crowley's attention, the pages worn with the stain of human sweat, that meant it had had been read more than once. The new information changed his image of the hatted male who was now staring at him again, the dark brown eyes watching his movements with almost a daring but modest glare. A small twitch of his lips must have given away his amusement at the situation, because the hatted man turned his head away from him, embarrassed that he had been caught staring at the demon. It was endearing sort of, the man truly had no idea the king of hell was in his humble abode.

Crowley wanted to make a deal, it was what he was good at and it was something he loved to do, which he needed direly. Plus, the smaller man thought with a sneer, the intelligent human souls always were the best to him, which meant this man's soul would be an extra special one to carry into hell. Crowley looked around the room for signs of things he could make a deal about, but all he seemed to find was a few pictures and oh- Crowley's train of thought rushed forward as he noticed the pictures more closely. There were only two which was uncommon for a happy household, so that meant someone was dead from those pictures from his experience.

One of them was just a stunning woman with blonde hair who was sitting on a swing set chair near a tree, she was smiling with pearly whites, she was alone. "This your mother?" asked Crowley with a smirk assuming he was right but as he turned to look for a reaction he was met face to face with a very angry woodsman. Crowley froze as the man plucked the picture out of his hands and walked away with it to the other room. It was a wordless action that spoke tons to Crowley, that the woman had not been his mother but his wife and that the brunette had loved her dearly and lost her in a tragic way, that was the only way to explain such an action. He was still frozen to place as his mind processed what had happened in the 2 second exchange, details were important after all. The man's eyes, what had they shown?

Crowley pushed aside, deciding to come back to that thought in a minute. Oddly enough, the demon king was delighted to be able to enjoy every bit of making a deal, the pained noises the humans made when they were about to sign their life away, so much fun for little old him. "So, you going to tell me your name or somethin'?" asked the gruff man and the Scottish man's lips twitched at the rudeness of his question. "Isn't it polite to give your name before asking for mine or are we already too close for that?" asked Crowley with a snide grin playing on his face, but it faltered as the man snorted and said, "Well, seeing as you're a demon, I think you have enough significant advantage over me already. I've heard people say demons can use names for other malicious purposes so no, I don't think I will." The king's eyebrow raised on his right side and a casual shrug was the answer to the man, the most a demon could do was find a human via name.

"Have it your way, but I thought we could've had a nice chat," Crowley stated and Bobby huffed and retorted under his breath, "Doubt it." "The name's Crowley," the ebony haired man said and then waited for a moment, then continued, "and I wonder, would you trade your life for your wife's?" He heard a choking sound and he looked back over at the mechanic with an amused look. The man had spit out his beer all over himself and on the floor, but the man made no more moves to clean or even complain about the mess. The man looked at Crowley with wide eyes and he almost whispered, "What did you say?" Crowley smiled, he had caught the man, hook, line, and sinker, and now was the time to reel him in.

"What I am asking is would you trade your soul in for hers? She could be on earth and you moving to the other side instead after you getting your wish for 10 years. You see I can truly give you anything you wanted." There was a vast amount of silence that followed and Crowley waited as he usually did, some humans take longer than others. Then, the brown grizzly haired man looked at him with a soft look in his eyes. "What do I trade for to get 5 minutes with the ghost of my wife?" the gruff man asked and Crowley paused to ponder it. The demon would be dumbfounded on any normal basis but this man intrigued him much more than any other human and the man had surprised him tremendously already, it went to show that looks weren't always everything. Then, Crowley thought of a deal that would solve his problems and kill 3 separate birds with one stone. He smirked viciously, "it will cost you, you'll have to let me live with you for a week starting tomorrow. Do you still want to do it, this little wish of yours?" There was a visible hesitation in the man's body language but his voice still said, "Yes."

Crowley internally smirked a giant smile, here was to his vacation at the home of a mortal soul. "There is one condition you must do to seal any contract with a demon though." The black haired man commented and he saw the brown haired male's eyes narrow to a dangerous point. Crowley felt his cheeks curl in slight amusement at the man's reaction, "What condition?" The demon motioned his index finger to his lips and struggled to remain composed as he spoke, "You have to kiss me straight on the lips love. A quick peck works the same, but it has to be the lips."

There was a silence as the brown haired male's eyes widened comically as a single word came out, "What!" The demon chuckled deeply at the human's naïve nature, indeed it was fun once in a while to get called to Earth by pure accident. The mortals truly were amusing to watch when they were ignorant about something, "Are you pullin' my leg here or are you bein' legit right now?" The brown haired male leaned against the fireplace and said in his very persuasively deceitful voice, "Of course, I don't joke when I make a deal." There was a swift but suffocating tense air around them for a moment and then the older gruff man scratched his head, "Well, if it's just a peck I can handle it."

"First, you need to sign a contract, with your name or it won't work, I have changed our contract to meet our terms so there is no need to panic about dying for this wish." Bobby nodded along as Crowley spoke and then he signed the contract that magically appeared into the raven haired man's hands. Bobby studied it for a moment very deeply, and Crowley found it rather amussing, a bit superstitious wasn't he? The brunette reluctantly signed it after a few moments with his name and Crowley glanced over at the name. "Well, the name suits you very well Bobby Singer," The man with a cap gave a slight shudder as Crowley seemed to saturate the words with a upright strange sense of power, like the fact that the man knew his name could change his life.

Reluctantly, Bobby met the man's eyes and flickered over the man's lips as the demon strode up to him, "Well, pucker up." Bobby gulped deeply and looked away, muttering to himself, "Why I am always stuck in these situations?" Crowley smiled and Bobby wanted to wipe that smirk off the man as the raven commented, "What, getting cold feet now?" The brunette scoffed and replied with an equal amount of snark, "Looking at your mug makes me wonder where your mouth has been. I don't feel so sanitary kissing a demon, so excuse me for anticipating the multiple diseases you have getting into me!" Crowley gave a dumb look for a moment before chuckling and speaking, "You truly know nothing do you? Demons aren't able to get diseases or transfer them unless we want to, but we would need some of your nail clippings to do that."

Crowley gave an eye motion downward, the gaze pointedly at his toes, as continued, "...and to be completely honest, I am not sure they are sanitary." The demon watched as Bobby's lips twitched almost into a smile before the man stopped himself, so the lumberjack of a man had a sense of humor. Crowley smiled as the man looked rather distraught, then the man made a decision, "Alright, I'll do it. Can you close your eyes then?" The raven's face glowered a bit, the demon relented though but not before he added, "I can tell if your cheating me though, so don't even try to slip out of this one." He heard Bobby 'tsk' slightly but Crowley snickered slightly at it rather than being angry, the human will truly be an interesting roommate.

Swiftly, the raven felt a slight peck on his lips, the warmth slipping away too fast and it was almost non-existent, but the demon felt his body burn slightly which meant the contract had been acceptable. Without opening his eyes, the king of hell snapped his fingers and Bobby's ghost wife, Karin, poofed into the room. "Bobby," the woman's voice was sweet, sickly sweet to Crowley's ears, but an equal voice met it, the other voice was heart wrenching sweetness. It was a like cotton candy, airy but all together sweetly reminiscent sounding, almost painfully so. The brown eyes of Crowley's flew to the odd scene beside him. The mechanic's large hand shaking as it reached out for the ghost hand, but the man's hand moved no further past an inch of it.

"Bobby, my love, I missed you so much. I have been watching you with the boys and everything." Her voice wistfully ghastly but still sweet as honey, and Bobby replied, "Have you now?" 'Boys?' Crowley internally filed away the questions for later and listened to the conversation again more closely. "I've been wanting to make Dean a pie like his mama always made, especially since she taught me how to make it." There was a soft laughter from the woman, it was faint but so bubbly with glee. Crowley felt his eyes glue to the scene as the man started to shake and as he said with vibrato that wavered, "Yeah...I just miss you so...so much and I am so...I can't even begin to apologize for what I did to you."

The raven felt his blood chill almost at the breath sticken words, they were laden with sorrow, pure and unadulterated pain. "Bobby, I understand. There was no choice for you, that fire was inevitable and the choice you made was a good one." Karen's words hit Bobby hard because the man's shaking seemed to completely break him as he leaned against bookshelf. The man began to snivel slightly as the woman continued, "The boys are so beautiful and strong like you are. I am sure John and his wife would have been proud of you for helping them grow up. I will always love you Bobby, but you deserve-" "I DON'T DESERVE ANYTHING! Not after that...no."Bobby interrupted, but Karin looked saddened by this outburst.

"Yes you do. You need to move on without me, do you remember how we felt when Sam and Dean kept holding on to their past? They were so sad and felt so helpless. We felt so sad for them and it made us all miserable. I don't want that for you. I want you to be happy, to love someone else, to be with someone who cares for you, please Bobby. Please don't isolate yourself again." Crowley looked away for a moment at where the picture of Karin was, and everything clicked. There must have been a fire, the boys they were talking about must have been with Karin when it was on fire. Bobby probably was only able to get them out and she...,"had been trapped in." the raven whispered softly as it all connected.

Then, Crowley felt a small jolt on his skin, time must almost be up for the brunette and his wife. "Tick tock, Bobby. Tick tock." Crowley murmured loud enough for both to hear, each looking over to the demon before being sucked back into their own little world once more. Crowley, once again, became a spectator of the scene and honestly he was becoming a little irritated at the small background character he had been assigned. "Karin...goodbye. I just wish I could have said goodbye before." The woman reached down and touched the ground underneath her, "This house is a part of me, It'll never be goodbye, I will be right here too." Her ghostly finger pointing straight at his heart.

"Please be happy for me, no matter what may happen I will still love you like I always have and I promise to you I always w-" She was stopped in the middle of her words as she disappeared from Bobby and Crowley's view. The brown haired man held his hands together and with all the strength he had left, Bobby picked himself of the ground and walked over to the sofa by the window and sat down. His heart still beating, but his soul somewhat bleeding from a wound that had festered, the death of his wife in a massive fire in the left wing of their home. The house Bobby lived in used to be bigger and he himself used to be a big time college professor with his equally beautiful and smart wife Karin.

Now, where his junk yard lay was the old foundation of the house a few scorch marks burnt permanently in the ground, it had toppled and they had cleaned up the remains and made it into a lot for cars. The fire had been 10 years ago at least, but the scorches it left in Bobby's heart had never healed. Seeing Karin just now, as pure beauty as the day she met him caused him to almost wince at the turmoil he felt. He knew that he shouldn't have fallen into that temptation, he was aware that if he saw his deceased wife he would feel broken, but at the same time he felt a burden lifted. He had at least been able to say goodbye, which was a lot more than other people got to do before loved ones passed away.

"Care for a beer Singer?" the voice that met his ears was close, way too close. Bobby's head yanked upward, Crowley was now closer, but far enough that the demon didn't intrude into the human's personal space except for the bottle of beer that was fairly close to Bobby's face that exuded the frigid cold reality. He had made a deal with a demon, his wife was dead, and now he would have to room with the strange demon that he barely knew other than the demon was a male named Crowley. The brown haired mechanic knew that the demon wouldn't kill him considering he had had every chance to do so before now.

"Yeah, beer is good." Bobby muttered as he took it from the demon's hand without any hesitation, the bottle cold on his fingers reminding him that drinking wouldn't help him right now. His fingers stopped cold as a flashback of his old man throwing a bottle across the room against the wall next to his mother. Without even thinking about what he was doing Bobby felt his hand tighten around the bottle and him winding up to throw. As soon as it left his hand he felt himself yell out of frustration as it broke loudly against the wall. Beer splashing and glass pieces flying into the air, glittering deceitfully in the air. It felt like Bobby was seeing his own life just shattering like the glass bottle and after a silence pass he heard the opening of a different bottle and the words, "Well, that was a waste."

"Yeah, it was," Bobby admitted softly after a moment of shocked silence and the brunette massaged the bridge of his nose. He peered beside him at the demon that he had summoned, watching as the man took a drink and grimaced at its taste. "What? Ain't your cup of tea then?" Crowley looked over at him plainly and said, "Tea would certainly be an improvement. Do you have any Singer? You don't look like the type to drink tea. Well, at least civilly." The brunette looked down at the shattered glass on the floor and felt a flood of guilt pour into his being. "I'll get ya some. What do you want? Earl Grey, Chamomile, or Black, that's all I got," Bobby casually replied as he got up going straight towards where the broom was.

"Black, give me a bit of milk with it if you've got any," the demon said plainly as he sat up and stalked over to his bookshelf. Bobby noted it, but refrained from saying anything else. He grabbed the broom and the dustpan and trotting over to where the shards sparkling on the floor under the moonlight beams from the window. The gruff man started shuffling the glass towards the dust pan with his broom, his eyes straying over to where he had spit out his beer earlier, he needed to clean that too.

"Well, well, you have good taste Bobby. How many of these fancy languages can you actually speak?" asked Crowley as he flipped through some more pages and Bobby made a face, he was trying to remember how many languages he knew, there were a lot of languages. "Who said you could look at those?" Bobby retorted instead and the raven smiled, "Who said I couldn't?" Bobby grimaced at the man's smug eyebrows and he sighed, "I can read about 22 languages and speak only about 10." "Really now?"asked Crowley, the dreaded eyebrow raise still bugging Bobby to no end, "Yes, I can. I used to be a professor before...everything happened."

"I see," Crowley made a strange face that Bobby could not describe, but the man snapped his fingers and the shards on the ground jingled as they slammed into the back of the dust pan harshly. Then, there was another sound behind him that caused him to turn and gape in shock. The puddle of beer he had spit out became a ball of liquid and floated to the sink, plopping down into the drain, a small squeak and water from the spout flushed it down. The sink hand squeaking back into place and the water stopped, everything had happened in a small amount of moments that left Bobby chilled. The sound of footsteps from the other man came closer and stopped an immeasurable amount away.

There was the sound of breath on his ear and a hand on the hem of his hat caused Bobby to tense. "You let your guard down," the comment was almost suggestive and comically true, Bobby knew it, he was going to be killed. Bobby felt his breath quicken at a sickening pace and he felt anger surge through him at the fact that he had been careless. "Yeah, because maybe I know ya aren't gonna harm me ya idjit," yelled as turned and grabbed his hat onto his head more, he was standing and found that he was slightly taller than Crowley so he used it to his advantage as he stared down the smaller man, but the man looked unfrightened by this use of height.

"You're going to be fun playing with all week, starting," the man looked at his watch and said, "...now." Bobby looked confused then he felt a pressure on his stomach and felt his feet leave the ground, the man staring helplessly at the ground and his eyes shifting between the floor and the smug looking raven who's fingers seemed to be lifting him. "Put me down," Bobby grunted and the demon looked off to the side and made a small smile, "Really? That's all you're going to say? 'Put me down', really how cliché." The man clicked his tongue and Bobby made a hateful face and said, "I don't sound like that. You are a guest in my home, but I ain't going to let you walk all over me, so put me back down." The raven made a noise of disbelief and said, "Do you really think you can make me do anything?"

"I can and I will unless you put me down now. First Warning," Bobby said softly and the other man raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh really and how are you going to do that?" asked Crowley, this time his voice gave way to his curiosity and the brunette felt his back touch the ceiling fan almost painfully. "Put me down or you'll regret it, second warning Crowley, I know many things I don't think you'll find fun," the man said with a slight jerk of pain as the fan blade pushed into his back, he reached into his pocket and found what he wanted there as he took out his flask. Crowley said nothing else as he eyed the man cautiously and Bobby unscrewed the flask and drank a small sip of the contents to be sure he hadn't filled it back with alcohol.

Then, in a sudden swish of his wrist, the liquid in the flask fell onto where Crowley was located and one drop touched Crowley and the man let out a small grunt and Bobby felt himself fall fast. The man grabbed the back of his neck and twisted to fall on his back and let his body relax to lessen the blow. There was an 'oomph' as he landed harshly, the wind knocked out of him, but he willed himself up to ward off the demon. Crowley though made no move against him, the demon looking at his wrists that seemed to be steaming from burning, "Ah, holy water. Painful enough to make us let go of our power, but not quite strong enough to harm and disguised as a flask. Clever I must say, do you always carry it? That scared of the supernatural Singer?"

"No, I carry beer in it but on Sundays I carry holy water instead," Bobby answered as he backed up very slowly, but Crowley's eyes flickered to him and he stilled. The demon walked over to him, but Bobby turned and walked up to the cabinets. "You still want that tea?" asked Bobby and the footsteps stopped and the demon stilled for a moment as well as he brought down the black tea. "Yes, I am going to borrow your couch and read a few of these books from the shelf unless I don't have permission,"Crowley spat out the last word and Bobby got the idea that the demon had been mad about that, maybe control wasn't something he was used to not having. "Sure and get nice and comfy because that's where you're sleepin'," Bobby replied as he went to add hot water to the cup with a tea bag.

There was a tense silence and Bobby bet the raven was staring holes in his flannel shirt as he was pouring his tea, "We switch every other day."The comment came suddenly and when he truend to see the demon indeed glaring at him, he conceded that even a demon needed a decent rest, plus he could live with the couch. He sighed, "Fine, but yer gonna follow the rules of the house alright?" The demon perked at the mention of rules, "What rules? We didn't go over any rules!" the man slightly yelled and Bobby tuned it out as he poured some milk in the tea. "They are simple. 1 - no answering the phone unless I tell ya to, 2- No answering the door, 3- Don't leave the house unless you tell me where you're going, and 4- Don't use magic to harm me or anyone else here, understand?"

The demon glared but nodded, agreeing that many were reasonable and not too constricting, "Alright, I'll agree." Then, that was their only conversation that whole night, and at some point Bobby forgot the demon was even in his house. It was quiet wordless exchanges, giving the man his tea on table next to the couch where he layed reading deeply. The mechanic didn't disturb him as he went up the stairs into his room and cursed at the time, it was already morning hours. The brunette then felt the weight of everything he had done that day weigh on his mind and body. His friend's cleaning for storage of Ellen, the goodbye between him and his wife, this demon Crowley, actually having to live with him, all of made him so damn tired. Bobby slipped into the bed and slept deeply, probably longer than he had slept in a while. He just knew tomorrow would be a hell of a lot worse.

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 **Aryes: Ooooh! What should Crowley do to annoy Bobby when he wakes? So many options~! Do you guys have any then bring them in because I want to write something that starts with Crowley being well...Crowley~! Any ideas let me know! i hope you guys like this chapter I put out! I will get working on the next soon~!**

 **~Aryes**


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